


The Soul's Mirror

by applesandpears



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-20
Updated: 2011-04-20
Packaged: 2017-10-19 12:40:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/200942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/applesandpears/pseuds/applesandpears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kahlan in a lake in the summer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Soul's Mirror

_**The Soul's Mirror (Cara/Kahlan)**_  


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Title:**   The Soul's Mirror  
 **Rating** : T  
 **Word Count** : ~300  
 **Pairing:** Cara/Kahlan  
 **Summary:** Kahlan in a lake in the summer.  
 **A/N:** For [](http://femslash-land.livejournal.com/profile)[**femslash_land**](http://femslash-land.livejournal.com/)  's (Drabble) Remix. A remix of [](http://hopeforsparks.livejournal.com/profile)[**hopeforsparks**](http://hopeforsparks.livejournal.com/)  's [Mirror to the Soul](http://hopeforsparks.livejournal.com/7299.html?#cutid1), which you don't necessarily need to read to understand this, but I still think you should! (Plus, the bonus!points [hurriedly made in time to be posted] cover, banner and icon.)  
  
A slender hand pressed upon her throat, cooling the burning of her skin - the inverse of an agiel, yet equally painful.

In this moment, the pattern of her life was reversed; it was not she who had the power over another but rather death looming over her head, taunting the same scripture which was foreign in this mirrored reality.

She was not emotionally dead, but merely stunted, so even her Mord Sith training did not exempt her from the terror one feels when their life is on the line, and now... Now, it was merging with other thoughts.

When the decision was reached, the thunderous caws of triumph shattered the cracks created by each confession, her world began crumbling as the truth hit her; the pieces no longer meshed together by the fabric of lies.

When moon was shining high in the sky, she would contemplate each of these emotions piecing them together until silver filled the frame, its picture no doubt eternally different to that which preceded it.

A dull jolt ran through her as she remembered that she would not live to see another sunrise, would not live to contemplate the wetness gathered in the recent travelling which had ceased to dampen her panties in the dialogue leading to verdict.

“I will not do it.”

Her heart stopped for a few moments and she felt a euphoric sensation weaken her knees, though concerns soon replaced it. Was it a joke? If not then why?

She surely deserved it; she had murdered her own father who had suffered torture and yet his love for her had kept him from breaking. How could staring into the so called ‘window to her soul’ possibly make the Mother Confessor find an inkling of redemption within them?  


  
  


  
  



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